All I Want
by The Red Pixie
Summary: 'Love is giving someone your heart, but trusting them not to break it. She'd trusted him, and here she was: a broken heart and a half-empty bottle of wine.' Quite angsty. /Title and song lyrics from 'All I Want' by Kodaline/ (one-shot set during the two year time jump).


**I don't own The Mentalist or 'All I Want' by Kodaline. I just thought that it was such a beautiful song and the lyrics reminded me so strongly of Jane/Lisbon that I had to write this. Please listen to the song, because it's amazing and so beautiful. **

**Title: All I Want**

**Author: The Red Pixie**

**Song: 'All I Want' by Kodaline**

**Setting: After the events of 6x08**

"_All I want is nothing more- to hear you knocking at my door. 'Cause if I could see your face once more, I could die a happy man I'm sure."_

Every time he asked if anyone had inquired about his whereabouts, he silently sent up a prayer. But every time he asked, he was always greeted with the same response. _Nada, Señor Jane. _Of course. Even if she did know where he was, he doubted she'd even _want_ to see his face again. But God, what he wouldn't give to see hers just one last time. Especially those green eyes that he swore could see into his soul.

"_When you said your last goodbye, I died a little bit inside. I lay in tears in bed all night…alone without you by my side."_

She only allowed herself to listen to the voicemail when she was back in the safety of her apartment. She didn't want to embarrass herself any further by breaking down in the FBI interrogation room. They kept her phone for a few days until she demanded it back- desperate to hear what he had to say. His last goodbye. She lay on her bed, tears rolling down her cheeks as she pressed replay over and over and over, savouring the sound of his voice. Her bed felt empty and cold and she couldn't help but fantasise his arms around her, keeping her warm.

"_So you brought out the best of me; a part of me I'd never seen. You took my soul and wiped it clean. Our love was made for movie screens."_

His mind wandered back to that day, as it often did. He could still sometimes feel the weight of that gun in his hands, whispering to him- beckoning him. It had always been the plan to end his life after he had extracted his revenge. He would join them- Angela and Charlotte (wherever they were). He wouldn't have anything to live for, anyway: his mission would be complete. Except that he did. When he had first begun his journey to find Red John, he'd never imagined that she'd be with him. Holding him up when he wanted to collapse. What would she think of him if he just gave up? He owed it to her to start again: a clean slate. She had helped him rebuild his life- he couldn't just knock it down. One day (it might be 100, it might be 1000) he would see her again. And he would tell her that he was grateful, and that he loved her. Because she was the one who had saved him. His Saint Teresa.

"_But if you loved me, why'd you leave me? Take my body… take my body. All I want is (and all I need is) to find somebody. I'll find somebody like you."_

She laughed bitterly to herself as she poured another glass. Was she really _that_ stupid? She'd let him take a piece of her- a piece she didn't think she'd ever truly get back. how did that saying go again? _Love is giving someone your heart, but trusting them not to break it. _She'd trusted him, and here she was: a broken heart and a half-empty bottle of wine. She knew the moment that she had started to depend too heavily on his mischievous smile and their playful banter that she had gotten herself in too deep. She knew how it would end, but she refused to believe that he would hurt her. Obviously she didn't know him as well as she'd thought. It didn't matter though, she told herself sternly. There'd be others. She'd find somebody who made her laugh, not cry. _But he did make you laugh,_ her inner voice whispered mockingly. And it was right. Her heart seemed to constrict and tighten when she realised that there would never ever be someone like him. He was one of a kind, Patrick Jane. One of a kind.


End file.
